


quiet

by qurrt (orphan_account)



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Dies, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23691853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/qurrt
Summary: “It’s okay, Peter. I’ve got you.” Tony assured him as best he could, watching as Peter’s face twisted painfully. Was he even getting through to him? Did it even matter anymore? It did, Tony couldn’t lose hope, not yet, not ever.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 137





	quiet

Heavy silence stretched out across the open street, filling every nook and cranny right up with the echoless sound. It seemed to be going on forever and ever, as if each person present had a strong hand slapped over their mouth, preventing any noise from leaving their lips. Eventually, however, a small noise, just barely audible even with the continuous lack of sound, leaves the youngest avenger. 

“Mr. Stark?..” 

The voice trailed off for a moment as if the speaker was too hesitant to even continue with what they were going to say. Perhaps he didn’t know if he’d be able to even speak without his voice shaking or breaking at the very last note. 

“I don’t feel so good.” He continued, however, spurred on by some force inside of him. 

Tony, Mr. Stark, the man of iron, finally turned back around. His faceplate was lifted to reveal a face quite obviously aged by time, shown by the wrinkles and smile lines, but yet still somehow holding a joyful youngness to his features. 

Panic was clear in his eyes, the joy of winning a tough battle completely overshadowed by the worry caused by Peter’s words. Deep down, a cold, relentless hand of terror was gripping his heart and slowly turning it to stone. 

“Are you alright?” The man, older than he looked and encased in defensive metal, finally asked, stepping forwards somewhat. His hands twitched at his sides, ready to reach out if need be. Behind him, the other avengers looked on, the emotions on their faces ranging between fear and fury. 

Peter stumbled forwards with a sharp inhale, his hands clutching at his lower abdomen, pressing hard against the torn Spiderman suit. 

A trembling gasp, and then; “I don’t know what’s happening-” An onslaught of pain was clouding his judgment, making it hard for him to even take another step towards his mentor. Everything hurt. The feeling of anguish stemmed from the deep wound on his abdomen but spread right down to his toes and fingertips. Peter just wanted it to stop, and soon. 

“I don’t wanna- I don’t-” 

Tony’s metal-encased fingertips finally got a grip on his prodigy’s trembling shoulders and Peter took that as his chance to collapse against him. “Sir please...” He begged, his voice ragged and quivering around a wet gasp, sounding worse than it had just moments before. “Please, it hurts.” 

Even in spiralling pain, Peter didn’t once raise his voice to shout or scream out, Tony noted with a forlorn expression. The boy (God, he was _just_ a boy still), was as quiet as a mouse even as he cried. All of this was making Tony’s heartache desperately, in a way it hadn’t for a long time. 

“It’s okay, Peter. I’ve got you.” Tony assured him as best he could, watching as Peter’s face twisted painfully. Was he even getting through to him? Did it even matter anymore? It did, Tony couldn’t lose hope, not yet, not ever. 

From the corner of his eye, Tony could see that their teammates were pacing, making calls and even some were hovering near. They all held fear in their gazes, even Natasha. That was what worried him the most because Nat- she was usually the calmest in these situations. She could easily detect how bad something was from a simple glance, and if she seemed this scared then... 

No. No. Peter wasn’t going to die. He couldn’t, he was- he was everything to Tony. Pete was the son Tony had always dreamed of having - incredible, smart, thoughtful. He was nothing like some of the snotty kids the billionaire had met previously. Tony couldn’t lose Peter. 

“You’re going to be just fine. Don’t you worry, Pete.” Even as a trail of blood rolled down from the younger man’s worryingly red lips, Tony couldn’t help but reassure him (perhaps even reassuring himself). What was he supposed to say? ‘Sorry kid, but you’re not going to make it?’ That just- Tony couldn’t. 

Metallic, cold fingers gently brushed away at a few strands of hair stuck to Peter’s sweaty brow. A blazing fever was obvious even through the metal suit. Tony could practically feel the heat radiating from Peter’s prone form. It wasn’t a good sign; he knew that for sure. 

To be honest, none of the symptoms that Peter was giving off were a good sign of anything. 

“Mr. Stark?” 

There had been a single beat of silence between the pair, before Peter’s timid, broken voice ended the silence. Tony’s gaze turned down and he nodded, trying to keep his worried expression away. He wanted to look, well, reassuring? 

“Yeah, kid?” 

Another beat of silence, with only Peter’s wide eyes staring up towards him before he spoke again. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Tony choked on his breath for a moment, glancing away and shaking his head. “You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all. None of this was your fault, okay? We should have kept a better eye on you, you’re still young and learning the ropes. We knew this, we-” Tony glanced down. Peter’s eyes were shut and his breathing was... 

“Kid? Hey- Peter, this- this isn’t funny, c’mon, please-” A desperate tone was taking over Tony’s voice as he moved his hand up to check for a pulse, his face contorted into a painful expression. 

“Kid please.” 

Tony was crying now, although no more noise was leaving his cracked lips. He cradled the body close to his chest, his eyes wet and his metal hands coated in blood. _Peter’s_ blood. It had all happened too soon. Peter had been taken to soon. Tony didn’t even have time to- to do anything. He’d just wanted the kid (his kid) to be okay. 

A heavy silence stretched out across the open street, just like it had in the beginning. Bystanders peered forwards, some even ducking their heads in respect for the fallen soldier. Tony thought with heartbroken amusement, that he could probably hear a pin drop in this echoing silence. It was deafening, and Tony wanted it to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> has anyone read wings of fire because that series slaps so much lol


End file.
